


Kinda Hot

by xfandomwritingsx



Series: Random Tuesday Prompts [7]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26145655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xfandomwritingsx/pseuds/xfandomwritingsx
Summary: Dialogue Prompt: “That was kind of hot.”
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/You
Series: Random Tuesday Prompts [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898362
Kudos: 58





	Kinda Hot

“You owe me another ten bucks, Daryl,” you boast as you pull your arrow out of a deer’s chest. “That brings your total to what? A couple hundred?” He shrugs his crossbow onto his shoulder and gives a slight roll of his eyes.

“Put it on my tab,” he says dryly, eyes still surveying the woods.

“One day you’re going to have to pay up somehow.” You wipe the blood from the arrow onto your pants and stick it back in your makeshift quiver at your hip. “You’ll have to get creative since money is pretty obsolete obviously.” You readjust your recurve to your back and nudge the deer with your foot. “But hey, I’ll still need your help carrying this back to camp so at least you’re not _totally_ useless,” you tease. Before you can lean down to pull the knife from your boot to start field dressing, Daryl is rushing towards you with an alarmed look on his face.

He’s got you by the shoulders, throwing you against the back of a tree and bringing his hand over your mouth to silence your yelp of surprise. His eyes aren’t on you, but are instead darting around the trunk of the tree. He lifts a finger to his lips, motioning for your continued silence and that’s when you hear the moans of the dead and the rustle of their feet dragging on the ground.

 _How many?_ You mouth at him. He holds up three fingers. Not enough to have you shaking in your boots, but just enough so you’re outnumbered and would prefer to avoid a fight. Daryl puts his hands on the bark of the tree above your head, pushing himself against you, making himself long and thin to stay hidden.

His cheek presses against yours, his breath hot on your ear. Your hands take hold of his vest, pulling ever so slightly to keep him close. He gives the lightest grunt when your lips brush his ear. Acutely aware that he’s keeping his pelvis off of you, you shift your weight subtly, brushing against him for just a moment. You can practically feel the flex in his arms when his fingers dig into the bark.

It doesn’t take long for the dead to move out of your space and the moment they do, Daryl removes himself from you and turns his focus to the deer.

“That was kinda hot,” you say after swallowing thickly. Daryl deliberately ignores you, pulling his own knife from his holster. “I think I know how you can pay your tab.”


End file.
